Let the pages be filled with untold stories
by clangwee
Summary: This is it. What they have always dismissed but dreamed, censored but considered, and denied but desired . AU/Oneshot


**A/N: **Thank you very much to those who have read and reviewed my first fic, Steadfast. You have no idea how much that means to a nobody like me. *virtual hug*

Anyhow, I'm still here. My plans for a break are totally futile and so, I give you my second fic (though I think this is more ramble than story *facepalm*). And as far as this fic is concerned, 3x22 DID NOT happen. Only events up to 3x21 apply.

**Disclaimer:** me no own TVD

* * *

When you have lived in perpetual fear for your life, living a hundred years is a delightful miracle.

More so, when the entire world is yours to marvel on, marvelling for a century sounds goddamn good.

A hundred years pass and Caroline has seen the world.

And it is never enough.

She visits Vienna for the third time. Putting on her sundress and flats, she decides that a stroll underneath the horse chestnuts of the Hauptalle is what she needed.

* * *

When you have lived for more than a thousand years, a century is nothing but a passing moment.

More so, when you were buried deep in the ocean for more than half of it, a hundred years is a mere blink.

A hundred years pass and Klaus has missed the world.

And it certainly calls for him.

But for some reason, when he picks up his sketchbook to draw, it is the view of the long unbending road of Hauptalle occupies his mind.

* * *

He sees her. _What a pleasant surprise._

For the record, despite always being one-step ahead (and having borderline stalker-ish tendencies), Klaus did not know that she is here.

And despite being the murderous psycho that he is, he's still taking in the hard blow of his untimely defeat (as well as all the we-missed-you-but-you-kind-of-deserved-it-drama). He tries desperately to avoid going back to _those_ memories. The mere thought gives him a thirst for vengeance that he will certainly satiate if not for the annoying tinge of regret that comes along with it.

But when he sees one of those very same memories he hopelessly shuns away (with her golden locks and blue eyes and her _light_), he understands very well that this pull he's feeling towards her is _neither_ of revenge nor remorse.

* * *

She sees him. _No fucking way._

Of course, Caroline knows he's alive. She won't deny. She still keeps tabs of him and his family.

If the murderous psycho you and you friends have killed (not to mention, the very one who has a schoolboy crush on you) could wake up anytime from his slumber, you definitely want to know when to start running.

But when that same murderous psycho is already right in front of you (with his blue eyes and blonde hair and smirk and dimples), you know better than to run. And she _does_ find herself unable to run—superglued to the ground by fear, by a fraction of guilt and by a teeny tiny bit of hope.

* * *

Under the horse chestnuts, they meet again.

"For a while I thought you were going to run away," Klaus says as he approaches her cautiously.

Caroline gives him an awkward smile. "Believe me, I was going to."

"But you didn't," he whispers. She notices the silent gratitude in his voice.

With that, her gaze drops to the ground as she nods. She is obviously avoiding his eyes and he finds that he doesn't like it. Not one bit.

"I'd like to think it's because you missed me, love," he teases playfully, head cocking to the side.

And that did it. Her head snaps up (_What did yo—)_ and he immediately catches her gaze.

He leans in closer to her. "Because I have dearly missed you."

She stares at him (his eyes all sincere and sparkly) and huffs a sigh. _Cheeky dimpled bastard, _she mocks inwardly (albeit smiling) and starts to walk ahead.

He smirks at her feistiness but he hesitates to follow her—until she calls to him.

"Aren't you coming?"

* * *

They dine at the Lusthaus.

She finishes her mascarpone as she dutifully answers his questions about things he had missed.

"Nothing much. Still no flying cars, still no aliens. Progress _is_ slow."

He looks at her thoughtfully before leaning back to his chair. "Man seems to have already exhausted his own capabilities." He crosses his arms. "It is foolish to want more."

"Says the one _foolishly_ wanting more of everything_,_" she teases, pointing a spoon at him.

He doesn't respond. She thinks she hit a nerve until he smiles/smirks. "Well enough about _that." _He closes in and rests his elbows on the table. "Let's talk about you, love. How is Damon Salvatore?"

_How the hell does Damon fuckin' Salvatore fit in the "about me" part?_ She gapes at him. He just rolls his eyes.

"Still snarky," is her snarky answer.

"Stefan?"

"Still sulky."

She sneaks a glance at him when he pauses with his queries. She knows very well that there's only one name that automatically follows the two.

"And Elena?" he finally asks.

For a (agonizing) second she doesn't know what—or _how—_to answer him but she settles with, "She's doing great actually. She loves Paris." And she is indeed, living there with the Salvatores for six years now.

He only nods back, deep in thought.

Of course, Klaus knows. Elena was turned. Shortly after Esther was desiccated, she was turned and forever ended the curse. He cannot help but to feel that a part of him ended, too.

On the other hand, Caroline is happy to spend forever with a friend. But, she does not really want to talk about _this_. Not now. Not anymore. There are only a handful of names left before the questions come to those whom she has lost forever—her mom, Matt and Bonnie (all deceased), and Tyler (some place _intentionally_ far away from her).

Klaus feels her distress. Damn, _he_ made her feel distressed. _This won't do, _he hisses inwardly.

He then promptly stands up, surprising her, and he offers his hand. "Come, sweetheart," he says.

She takes it.

* * *

He takes her to the Prater.

"Really? A park?" She looks at him incredulously. "This is really your attempt to impress me? Because I've been here for like a million times," she says smugly, leading him (like a pro) at the entrance.

"I wish I was there with you." He gives her a sad smile. "Every single time."

* * *

They are aboard the Wiener Riesenrad when he jokes about how it's an unforgivable flaw that vampires could not fly.

She laughs heartily, almost tearing up and (dangerously) rocking the gondola. "Do you really want us to turn into bats or something?"

"Absolutely not." He shakes his head, chuckling. "But you know what? I was here when they built this in the 19th century," he brags, grasping the handlebar of the ride.

"Of course you are." She rolls her eyes.

"Yes I was and that's exactly because I have always found our fascination of heights very endearing."

"And you so do enjoy a good Ferris wheel ride."

He frowns at her (_Very mature, dear_). She breaks to a grin (_Sorry! Go on then_).

"What I was saying is that, when you stand on high tower or fly on an aircraft or _yes, even when you ride a bloody Ferris wheel_" He looks at her, his expression somber. "All of those… And it's like we imagine ourselves closer to Heaven, if there any is one.

"And being the abomination that we are," he continues as his gaze drifts to the setting sun. "This is the closest we can get."

Klaus is then reminded of what it was like being 'dead' (well, more dead than he already is). The sad thing for them cursed was there is neither a heaven nor a hell waiting. There is just the vast and endless nothingness. And it terrified him to no end.

All the while Caroline watches him as the melancholy in his voice reaches her. And she _understands_ him. She knows how Klaus can be the philosophical and poetic and _profound_ (she can't really decide if she hates or love that side of him). But as much as she turned him down before (and practically shooed him away), it his words that echoes in her ears. And in all honesty, she can never deny that a part of her had always believed him.

* * *

They are leaning on the railing in silence, admiring the Danube against the night sky. And every once in a while, she is stealing glances at him.

Caroline finds it funny that she's actually here—with (murderous psycho) Klaus. Harmlessly hanging out, nonetheless.

And she finds it funnier that she only thought about this now. _Damon would be horrified_, she laughs inwardly.

She knows more than anything that she should be angry and scared and hysterical but she doesn't. She should despise him with all her might and hurt him even, as he hurt her and her loved ones. But she doesn't.

A hundred years did not completely heal the pains from past yet it certainly made her more tolerant.

And she is feeling so goddamn tolerant right now.

* * *

They are leaning on the railing in silence, admiring the Danube against the night sky. Though all he is really admiring is she.

Klaus remembers how he had promised her the world. That she needs _him _to be the greatest that she can be. _Oh how he was sadly mistaken._

He looks at her now—her eyes reflecting the stars and skin glowing under the moonlight. A hundred years and she is more beautiful than ever. His memories of her hardly do her justice.

And yes, they should be enemies. She made that clear when she had her hand on his demise. Yet they are here—together _an der schönen blauen Donau. _And he might be a fool for thinking that _this _means anything.

But a fool can hope, right?

* * *

Unlike the Danube—eternal and enduring, this day of walks and Ferris wheel rides is now certainly spent.

"I guess I should be going," He says, breaking the silence.

"Okay." She replies, a small smile gracing her face.

He smiles back as he whispers, "Good night, Caroline."

They hold each other's gazes for a moment until she looks away. He drops his head and finally walks way, the distance stretching between them. She watches his retreating back while he listens to the fading sound of her breathing—both intent of not letting go of the memory.

And this is when they realize that this it.

* * *

This is it. What they have always dismissed (and dreamed), censored (and considered) and denied (and desired).

Behind her constant rejection and downright betrayal of him, and his vile attempts to hurt and kill her friends, a part of them wanted _this _to work out.

_Maybe someday. In a different place. In a different circumstance. Where everything is not twisted and tangled and so freakin' convoluted._

It's all there—buried underneath all the unending denial-anger-revenge-obsession-bloodlust...

_A curtailed story waiting to be rewritten._

They can always let it end there. Consider it as a ripple in the water or a fog on the glass—a passing thought, a fleeting moment.

Or they can give it a shot. And let the pages be filled with their tale.

* * *

"Klaus!" she calls after him.

"Yes, love?" He turns his back and faces her. She is grinning at him adorably and he cannot help but to grin back. There's a good fifteen to twenty meters between them but he definitely hears her whisper.

"I'll see you tomorrow."

And they give it a shot. Theirs may not (or not yet) be a romantic one and who knows what will happen. But, whatever. After all, they have forever to find out.

* * *

*_ an der schönen blauen Donau – On the beautiful blue Danube (yes the Strauss piece)_

**A/N 2.0:** Okay, so what the hell happened with 3x22? Klarowood much? I mean I'm totally happy that technically Klaus is still around (being inside Tyler) but come on! We need some actual JoMo awesomeness, right? As well as actual Klaroline FTW!

Also, my view of the future in this fic (including my seemingly unresolved Stefan-Elena-Damon triangle) is totally skewed. Don't get me wrong—I have high hopes for a hundred years from now. And if anyone is interested, I am a Stelena shipper. Haters gonna hate. Haha!

Anyway, you can notice that my writing style kind of tends to be episodic, uses a lot of parallelisms and parentheticals, and more often than not have messed up POVs so… Hope you bear with me. It all make sense in my head.

Like always, please pardon my errors in grammar and spelling. Plus I've only been to Vienna once (and barely on that part of the Vienna even) so please be gentle with the criticisms. :D

Drop a review if you can! **And I sincerely apologize for my long A/Ns!** I'm talkative like that. :x

...

And now, ze break commences.


End file.
